


Pass

by justalittlegreen



Category: MASH (TV)
Genre: First Kiss, Hand Jobs, M/M, Sort Of, anachronistic polyamory, blowjob, experienced bj, inexperienced Hawkeye, supply shed, swinging
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-22
Updated: 2020-01-22
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:47:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 2,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22355086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justalittlegreen/pseuds/justalittlegreen
Relationships: B. J. Hunnicutt/Benjamin Franklin "Hawkeye" Pierce, B. J. Hunnicutt/Peg Hunnicutt
Comments: 4
Kudos: 46





	1. Chapter 1

BJ passed Hawkeye the rest of his popcorn under the blanket, groping around to find Hawkeye's hand while he watched Marlene Dietrich smoke a cigarette. After a minute of futile attempts, he went to press the bag of kernels against Hawkeye's stomach, to force him to take it. 

He missed.

The back of his hand brushed against an unmistakable bulge in Hawkeye's pants. BJ's eyes went wide. Did Hawk have a thing for Marlene Dietrich? Was it because Margaret was sitting in front of them? He blushed, wishing he was a million miles away (or, you know, twenty thousand would work.)

Hawkeye put his hand over the bag of popcorn and gently took it from BJ, and then BJ heard the sound of it falling to the floor. The next thing he knew, Hawk was holding his hand. Gently. As if they were kids at the movies. 

As if BJ hadn't spent the last two months wondering exactly what it would feel like to get his hands on the exact bulge he'd accidentally discovered. As if he hadn't spent a dozen showers imagining himself on his knees for Hawk.

As if he wasn't, right this second, thinking about crawling under the blanket and showing Hawk _exactly_ what he liked to think about.

But Hawk was probably mortified. And it probably had nothing to do with him. So BJ let himself be held, and watched Marlene Dietrich take another drag.


	2. Chapter 2

"I _do_ like Marlene Dietrich," Hawkeye said, leaning back on his elbows. 

"Like Potter likes Doris Day?"

"Minus his marital infidelity hang-ups."

"Do you have any?"

"Any what?"

"Hang-ups?"

Hawkeye leveled his gaze, not wanting to believe whatever it was he was probably incorrectly reading in BJ's expression. _But you know his face,_ a persistent voice in the back of his head protested. _You're never wrong with him. And vice versa._

"I'm not a cheater. And I don't help people cheat."

BJ looked like he'd been slapped. He dropped his head and feigned a sudden interest in retying his left boot. When he finished, he looked up. Hawkeye's face registered a certain amount of disappointment, a hint of disgust, maybe. 

"Neither am I," he muttered. "I'm not a cheat, and you know it."

"Well, except when you're playing Double Cranko."

BJ didn't take the out. He turned to the pile of Peg's letters and rifled through them, knowing exactly which one he needed. He pulled it out and unfolded it, passing it to Hawkeye. "Here," he said. "Fourth paragraph."

Hawkeye looked down. "It says here she had Bill and Judy over for dinner." 

"Army's not the only one with secret codes." 

Hawkeye looked up. "I don't follow."

BJ looked around the tent for eavesdroppers. "Bill and Judy come over to...take care of her," he explained, the blush reaching the tips of his ears.

Hawkeye's eyebrows shot up. "Are you suggesting what I think you're suggesting?"

"If it's the thought of my wife in the middle of a neighborly sandwich, you've almost got it."


	3. Chapter 3

Hawkeye swallowed. 

"That's, uh...that's a vivid image." 

"Mhmm," BJ agreed. 

"And how did this...uh, _arrangement_ come about?"

"Well, I didn't want her to be alone when I left, so I asked the neighbors to look in on her," BJ said innocently. 

Hawkeye's eyes narrowed. "That doesn't sound like you. The BJ Hunnicutt I know nearly worried himself into a conniption over the fact that one of the neighbors dropped by for tea."

BJ grinned. "I know. Isn't it funny how that works both ways?" He sighed and laid down on his cot, sticking a pillow under his head. "It's different with them, Hawk. It's not just anyone."

"How so?"

"Well, for starters, it's not just her and them."

"Oh?"

"I mean, I was there too, in the beginning."

"Before you were drafted."

"Yeah. If you think you've seen me drunk, you should've seen me the night we all ended up in Bill and Judy's water bed. I didn't know if I was aroused or seasick."

"Similar feeling."

"Anyway, the next morning, we all tried to pretend it hadn't happened - "

" - as one does when one accidentally wakes up with the neighbors"

" - but Peggy came to me a week later and asked how I'd felt about it."

"And?"

"And..." BJ turned on his side to face Hawkeye again, "if I'd had any clue what was in store for me when I got here, I'd have told her it apparently wasn't a fluke."

"So you did it again?"

"Sober that time. Well, mostly sober."

Now it was Hawkeye's turn to blush. "And you - and - Bill - "

" - have barely a fraction of the chemistry you and I have on a bad day," BJ finished. "Call him...a gateway, if you will."

"To what?" Hawkeye's voice dropped to a whisper.

BJ propped himself up on his elbow and locked eyes with Hawkeye. "What would you do," he asked, dangerously low, "if I came over there, seized you by the hair and kissed you until you couldn't breathe?"

Hawk's eyes went dark, breath coming short as he fumbled for a reply.

BJ glanced down at his shorts and licked his lips. "Good answer."

BJ stood up, adjusted the bulge in his own pants, grabbed a towel and headed for the door.

"Wait - Beej - where are you going?"

BJ looked back, all puzzled innocence. "It's my turn to do inventory," he said perfectly innocently. "Margaret'll have my hide if I don't get to Supply before the end of today."

The look of tortured confusion on Hawkeye's face was comical. BJ almost laughed. "Of course," he added, "you know it goes faster with two."

Hawkeye was out of bed and into his boots before BJ had time to blink. He charged out the door, leaving it swinging behind. BJ waited a minute until Hawk was out of sight, then headed for the supply shed.


	4. Chapter 4

Hawkeye was counting boxes of sulfa when BJ arrived, surreptitiously slipped the telltale hanger on the door, and locked the door behind him. He stepped up right behind Hawk, leaving little room between him and the shelves and started saying random numbers to throw off Hawkeye's count.

"four...five, six, seven - "

"eleven, seventy-three, four, two point nine..."

"Hey!" 

"Hey yourself."

Hawkeye turned around. His eyelids dropped, and he took a long breath, not touching BJ, but barely an inch away. "I was counting those. You messed me up," he murmured.

BJ slid a hand up Hawkeye's back, neck, head, and worked his fingers into the thick, graying hair. "Tell me," he growled. "Tell me I'm not wrong."

Hawkeye shook his head ever so slightly. "You're not," he whispered.

"That you - " BJ kissed his right temple, tilting his head to the side, " - want this as much - " another kiss, this time on Hawkeye's jaw - "as I do?"

Hawkeye screwed his eyes shut. "Yes," he admitted, voice trembling. "Shut up and kiss me already."

BJ responded by shoving him against the rack, tightening the grip on his hair and leaning in until their lips almost touched. He could feel Hawkeye's breath, a promising flutter of want. "One more time," he whispered. 

"Please," Hawkeye begged. _"Please."_


	5. Chapter 5

BJ nearly came in his pants at the sound of Hawkeye begging for kisses. He loosened his grip on Hawkeye's hair, cupping the back of his head as he leaned in. They kissed rough and hot, stubble and exhaustion and exhilaration. Hawkeye's hands found the back of his shirt and clung. Damn, he was a good kisser. Not that BJ expected anything less, but the last time someone had made him go jellylegged over a kiss like this, he'd been seventeen and didn't know it could feel like that.

They pulled away, panting, until Hawkeye lunged for him again, hungry, nipping at BJ's bottom lip and doing things with his tongue BJ could barely follow. BJ became suddenly aware that his thigh was between Hawkeye's, and Hawkeye had begun to rut against him, mindless with need, whimpering at the contact. It was both too much and not enough, BJ desperate to get his hands on him. Or his mouth. Or anything, really.

He reached down and grabbed a fistful of Hawkeye's shirt, pulling it out of his pants and trying to work it up over his head. He needed Hawk, needed him _now,_ needed chest against sweat-broke chest, needed proof and comfort and something to quench whatever seemed to be burning him from the inside out.

The moment their bodies came together, they paused. Relished the feel of skin against skin, resting their heads on each other's shoulders, Hawkeye's hand cupped around the back of his neck. Breathing together. Breathing each other in. Hawkeye smelled like himself, and something keener, something sharper, raw, like wild onions and pine.

BJ pressed a kiss to Hawkeye's shoulder. Hawk replied with one against the side of his neck. BJ dug his fingers into the small of Hawkeye's back, pushing Hawk's hips toward his. Hawk muffled a groan into his neck. 

"Keep that up and you're going to have a mess to clean up," he muttered.

"Oh?" BJ answered, flexing his thigh to give Hawk something firm to rut against. "I don't like having to clean up after myself," he breathed. "It's much easier to...head it off at the pass."

"H-how do you propose to do that?" Hawk stuttered.

BJ responded by grabbing Hawk's wrist and pulling his head back to create a few inches of space between them. He sucked one of Hawkeye's long, deft fingers into his mouth, adding a few tricks of his own tongue, before pulling off with a smack.

Hawk's eyelashes fluttered. "I, uh," he began. "Gd, Beej, you really - you know how to - I've - " he trailed off.

"Do you not want me to?" BJ asked, suddenly worried that it had gone to far.

Hawkeye opened his eyes and glared. "Are you crazy? You think I'm going to turn down the chance to make my regular Tuesday night dream come true?"

BJ grinned. "Hang on," he said, looking around the fading light of the shed. "My knees aren't what they used to be." His gaze fell on a three-legged stool against the wall. It'd be a little low, but manageable. Besides, what was a crick in the neck when it was earned in the most honest fashion of blowing one's lover's mind?

He went for the stool, and when he came back, he found Hawk with his back turned to BJ, doing something with his pants. 

"Hawk?"

Hawkeye held up a finger and finished shuffling around, zipped up his fly, and turned around. 

"Had to give myself a quick sponge bath," he said sheepishly. "All I found was rubbing alcohol, but that should do."

BJ settled himself on the stool, feeling Hawkeye 's hands resting on his shoulders. He was glad Hawk had zipped himself up; he wanted the pleasure of unwrapping Hawk himself. He turned his head to the right and left to kiss Hawkeye's hands, then started slowly unbuckling, unbuttoning, unzipping. He nuzzled Hawk through his shorts, relished the gasps and the way Hawk's grip tightened when he mouthed him through the cotton. He teased and tantalized, and finally, when Hawk began to shake, he pulled back. 

"Damn you," Hawk swore softly. "You tease."

"Good things come to those who can stand to wait," BJ replied. He glanced up. Hawk's lips were swollen, slightly parted, eyes dark, hair a mess. Gd, BJ wanted nothing more than to stare at him for hours, this marvel of a man. "Go on," he whispered hoarsely. "Take it out. Show me how much you want it."

Hawkeye closed his eyes and squeezed BJ's shoulders a second before dipping a hand under his waistband and freeing his cock. BJ had seen it before, of course, even hard, once, in the shower. But nothing had prepared him for this - for Hawkeye, stiff, red, dripping, trembling.

For _him._


	6. Chapter 6

"Fuck," BJ whispered, his voice rising to a crack. "I've been thinking about this since Marlene Dietrich," he lied. 

Hawkeye's voice was a chuckle-rich rumble. "I've been thinking about this since Rudyard Kipling. Oh - " he gasped as BJ slipped his tongue over the head of his cock, "oh fuck, oh _Beej_ \- don't stop - fuck - "

BJ hummed and slowly slid his mouth up and down, relishing the way Hawkeye gave up on his shoulders and went straight for his hair. BJ's penchant for hair-pulling wasn't limited to the giving end. Hawkeye's fingers gripped him at the roots; the sensation of being pinned between Hawk's hand and his cock left BJ feeling like he was floating, effortless, free, existing to please and pleasure, to draw as many of those divine sounds out of Hawkeye as he could.

"Beej?"

"Mmmhmm?"

"Are you enjoying this?"

BJ reached up and tapped the hand on his head. Hawk let go and BJ pulled off, leaning back on the stool, showing where he'd already unzipped his fly. "This evidence enough for you?"

"Beej?"

"Hawk?"

"I want to touch you." The words barely came out.

BJ got to his feet and wrapped Hawk back up in his arms, slipping one hand down between them. "Go ahead," he murmured. "You've done this before, haven't you?"

"Not exactly."

"It's not rocket science. Or heart surgery. Just do what you would do. Do what feels - " he cut off as Hawkeye reached into his shorts and gripped him with exactly the right amount of strength. He'd gone untouched til now and the feel of Hawk's hand was exquisite, almost painfully good. "Yeah," he managed. "Like that. You haven't done this before?"

"Shh, later," Hawk whispered, starting to stroke. BJ knew he wouldn't last long, not with Hawkeye this close, his hand on BJ's cock, gorgeous and glowing and panting and needy, the way he thrust his hips into BJ's hand, the way their knuckles grazed each other as they raced to bring the other to completion.

BJ surprised himself by being first, burying his head and muffling a grunt into Hawkeye's shoulder. As soon as his subsided, Hawkeye followed with a moan that made BJ want to take him far, far away from civilization. They wiped their hands on their pants, not caring, for the moment, about the mess.

"Beej?" came a whisper.

"Yeah?" He wondered if he sounded as rough as Hawkeye did.

"My legs are gonna give out."

BJ chuckled. "I'll hold you up."

"You always do." Suddenly, Hawk began to laugh - not his cheeky giggles, or the goose-honk guffaw everyone knew him by, but a purer, happier sound. "Beej, I can't tell if we've ruined our lives or saved them."

"How do you figure?"

"Because - " Hawkeye stopped and swallowed, his fingers pattering nervously on BJ's back - "I don't know if I can give you up to the world when this is over."

BJ sighed, tears prickling in his eyes. He blinked them away and clung a little tighter. "Maybe you'll come visit," he said. "Maybe you'll come for dinner."

"Like Bill and Judy?"

BJ lifted his head and kissed Hawk again, long and slow. "Bill and Judy who?" he murmured.

~fin~


End file.
